The Village Uncle (From "Twice Told Tales")
Nathaniel Hawthorne · English
Nathaniel Hawthorne's lyrical retrospect from Twice-Told Tales (1837).
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Pagera Editor's Note
Nathaniel Hawthorne's lyrical retrospect from Twice-Told Tales (1837). On a Thanksgiving night by a glowing hearth, an old man weaves an imaginary life — picturing himself as a New England fisherman with his beloved wife Susan and their children gathered around. He recalls their first meeting on a wooden bridge at King's Beach, the salt smell of dories returning at dusk, the cod and halibut hauled to shore, the tall tales of Uncle Parker the old salt, the cottage with a Gothic arch made of whale's jaw-bones. Yet as the fire dims, the figures fade, and the solitary scribbler emerges from the dream. Hawthorne closes with a quiet moral: chaste affections, humble wishes, and honest toil — not dream-spun fantasies — are what keep the heart at peace.
The Village Uncle (From "Twice Told Tales")
Nathaniel Hawthorne · English
Nathaniel Hawthorne's lyrical retrospect from Twice-Told Tales (1837).
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Original (English)
TWICE TOLD TALES THE VILLAGE UNCLE AN IMAGINARY RETROSPECT By Nathaniel Hawthorne Come! another log upon the hearth. True, our little parlor is comfortable, especially here, where the old man sits in his old arm-chair; but on Thanksgiving night the blaze should dance high up the chimney, and send a shower of sparks into the outer darkness. Toss on an armful of those dry oak chips, the last relics of the Mermaid's knee-
Indonesian translation (Pagera AI)
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Pagera Editor's Note
Nathaniel Hawthorne's lyrical retrospect from Twice-Told Tales (1837). On a Thanksgiving night by a glowing hearth, an old man weaves an imaginary life — picturing himself as a New England fisherman with his beloved wife Susan and their children gathered around. He recalls their first meeting on a wooden bridge at King's Beach, the salt smell of dories returning at dusk, the cod and halibut hauled to shore, the tall tales of Uncle Parker the old salt, the cottage with a Gothic arch made of whale's jaw-bones. Yet as the fire dims, the figures fade, and the solitary scribbler emerges from the dream. Hawthorne closes with a quiet moral: chaste affections, humble wishes, and honest toil — not dream-spun fantasies — are what keep the heart at peace.
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